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I Couldn’t Wait To Write My Thesis And Now I Wish I Was Doing Literally Anything Else

I haven’t written a blog post for ages, so what better time than now, when I’m in the angst and terror of writing up my thesis?

Searching through my draft posts to see if there was something I could conjure up from those, I stumbled upon one from March 2015 entitled “I Can’t Wait To Write My Thesis”. HAH! Not only is that hilarious in itself, it also contained the line “love the idea of sitting and writing everyday – currently my idea of bliss. Sure this will change.” Yes, it damn well will change, Past Me, you moron.

Actually… it’s not changed that much. I still like the idea of sitting down and writing every day. It just doesn’t really happen. I write a bit, I change it, I write a bit more, I change that. I create some data tables, edit some figures. Then I get sidetracked and discover yet another gorgeous font I may or may not use. Usually at this point I leave the house and get annoyed at how lovely being outdoors is, regardless of weather, and return not feeling energised and enthused, as planned, but grumpy and bitter.

So I’ve got <*puts fingers in ears*LA-LA-LA, I can’t hear you!> months until my thesis is due in. Time is really tight. But, I think I’m finally getting to the point where at the end of a day, progress has been made, and I haven’t just written stuff and unwritten it again, or found something wrong with my code or analysis and spent the day fixing that instead.

It’s a really really weird time. I don’t go into work much; I write better from home. It’s lonely. I get absurdly happy when I’m outside the house, and if I manage to make it into a pub I almost weep with delight. It’s nice being on my own time, but there’s so much pressure to be working constantly, as there always is throughout PhDs. But I’ve settled into a kind of manic calm acceptance.

I won’t lie, I’ll be very happy when this is handed in. Or, most likely, I’ll be apathetic, as I’ve heard several people say it’s oddly underwhelming once you finally finish. Of course, handing in isn’t the finish, there’s the viva terror and then however many months of corrections.

So, um… I’m not entirely sure what the point of this post is, except to serve as something else to do instead of writing my thesis. And to share the weirdness of these final stages of PhD. I’d be interested to know how everyone else feels at this stage – pop me a line in the comments or tweet me @michelleareeve. Thanks to making it to the end of my thesis-fuelled drivel!

If you liked this post, you should probably be writing your thesis, too. Go on, go!